Bound in Blood
by Yamitron
Summary: Marik, tormented by memories of his past, is comforted by Bakura. Thiefshipping Yaoi One-Shot. YamiBakuraxMalikIshtar "Marik leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. He sighed and closed his eyes. “Make me forget.” He whispered."


**[A/N: **Sorry in advance, I tend to mix Japanese and English names together. I just like some better than others. And also, Marik is Malik, the hikari, if you can't figure that out. Heh. This is also the single dirtiest smut story I've ever written, so apologies if it is done poorly.]

Marik rested a forearm on the wall in front of him, and his head on top of that. He was dully aware of the hot water rushing over his back, falling down his naked body. The rushing water was loud in his ears, but he made himself deaf to it, choosing to ignore it. He took a deep breath, inhaling the steam that surrounded him in a fog.

His mind began to wander. He tried to think of good things, like his partner or his friends; but all this did was inevitably start him down his worn mental road, with his memories of the past. Images and voices assaulted his mind.

_"MALIK! MALIK!!"_

His eyes moved of their own accord, not really seeing what was in front of him.

"_Master Marik..._" Odion fell face down.

He shut his eyes and jerked his head away from nothing.

"_Little Brother...."_ Isis' eyes were glassy, a single tear rolled down her cheek.

He squeezed his eyes shut more tightly and knotted his hands in his wet hair, yanking on it and scraping his nails against his scalp.

He saw his father's face. Then his Yami's. He saw his father raise his whip and crack it, then his Yami bursting through his own consciousness and body, grabbing the whip.

Marik ducked his head, and stood up straight, drenching his hair in the now scorching water. He became very aware of the scars and tattoos on his back.

His Yami unsheathed a knife and plunged it deep into his father. Again and again, his father's cries echoing throughout the room. He fell.

"_MALIK!" "Brother!" "Master!" "NO" "Why!"_

Marik shut the water off with as much force as he had. He took a deep breath and drew back the curtain. He shook his head like a dog and felt around for his towel. He grabbed at the first fuzzy thing he felt, and, making sure that it was his towel, wiped the moisture off of his face. He quickly ran the towel along his arms, chest, back, and legs, getting the water that clung to him off.

He turned, as he was rubbing an arm, to the mirror on his left. He caught his own reflection for a moment, and then turned away in sheer disgust at the sight of himself. He took the towel and dried his hair, rubbing it against his skull harshly, taking out some of his inner anger on himself.

He wrapped the towel around his waist and, avoiding looking in the mirror, grabbed the comb he had sitting on the counter of the sink. He yanked it through his hair, purposefully causing as much pain as he possibly could in the process. He slammed the comb back down where he got it, and picked up his deodorant, spraying it on himself. He set it back down, and looked over the countertop, doing a last minute inspection of hygiene. His hair was dry and combed, he smelled nice, he was dry enough; he deemed himself presentable.

Marik gripped the edge of the countertop, leaning on it. He slowly raised his head to look himself in the eyes. His eyes were dark and serious staring back at him. He wondered why it was that he kept himself alive...

Turning away from himself in revulsion, he yanked his towel on tighter, and pulled the door to his room open.

He nearly jumped a foot in the air in surprise, and quickly latched on to his towel, keeping it thoroughly on. Bakura sat on his bed, not facing him, idly leafing through the book that had been on Marik's bed. "Enjoy your shower?" He asked, not turning to look at Marik.

"U-uh, Bakura- What are you _doing _in here?" Marik stammered, turning bright red. He was _naked_ for God sake!

"Got bored. Came over to see if you wanted to do something." Bakura shrugged, putting the book down carelessly on the floor. He turned to face Marik and grinned, throwing himself onto his bed and putting his arms behind his head.

"You had to have heard the fucking shower going! And how the hell did you get in here anyway?" Marik said, coming inside and closing the door behind him. He folded his arms across his chest.

"Well to the second, I made a mold of your key once. Just got a spare one made." He grinned mischievously. "And to the first, frankly I liked the idea of running into you in a towel. Or less. Whatever worked." Bakura chuckled to himself. Marik groaned and grabbed his towel again, tightening the knot that held it in place. Bakura laughed again. "Marik, it's not like I haven't seen you naked before." He smirked.

Marik rolled his eyes. He then got an idea. "Sit up." He said to Bakura, who complied. He walked to the bed and sat down next to Bakura. He sighed and kept his eyes focused in his lap. Bakura put an arm around him. Marik's mouth twitched. "You know, I'm sort of glad you're here..." He said quietly.

"And why's that?" Bakura massaged Marik's shoulder with his thumb.

"I'm in need of a distraction, and some reassurance." He finished, smirking slightly.

Bakura grinned deviously. "I was hoping you'd say something like that."

"_MALIK!"_

Marik shut his eyes tightly again, trying to block out the voice screaming his name. He didn't want this... He didn't mean for it to happen... He grabbed the roots of his hair again and yanked, gritting his teeth and grimacing.

He jerked out of his stupor, wrenching his eyes open as Bakura nuzzled his neck. He had gotten behind him, and rubbed his shoulders as he nuzzled. Marik exhaled and his eyelids drooped over his eyes. He tilted his head backwards and nuzzled Bakura's head back, silently thanking him.

Marik turned around, locking eyes with Bakura. His eyes were deep crimson, laced with black. Bakura smirked at him, and Marik leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. He sighed and closed his eyes. "Make me forget." He whispered.

Bakura tilted his head and leaned in more, gently kissing Marik on the lips. He lifted a hand and caressed his cheek. Marik kissed him back, and wrapped his arms around Bakura's neck.

Marik kissed him harder, desperate to lose himself and forget all that he was, even if only for a while. He felt Bakura's hands move from his face down his chest to his waist, lingering there before moving up his back. Marik shivered- his hands were so cold in comparison to the water that had scorched him a few minutes before.

Bakura licked Marik's lips, coaxing them to open for him. He parted his lips and Bakura's tongue slunk into his mouth, searching for his. Marik's tongue twirled around his, engaging in the dance.

As their mouths became more occupied, Marik wanted more movement with his hands. He unlocked them from behind Bakura's neck and instead slowly made his way down Bakura's chest, stopping at the ends of the shirt. He slipped his hands under the shirt and felt his abdomen muscles tighten momentarily. He worked his hands up slowly over Bakura's stomach, finally reaching the pectoral muscles. He pinched a nipple, and Bakura growled at him, biting his lower lip. He did it again and Bakura broke away from him.

He smirked and his eyes flashed as he yanked his shirt off over his head and tossed it into a corner of the room carelessly. He shoved Marik by the shoulders down onto the bed, and climbed on top of him. He leaned down over him, and licked Marik's neck. Marik moaned and ran his hands along Bakura's bare back.

Bakura kissed down Marik's neck to his collarbone, and bit at the skin there, producing more moans from Marik. He grinned against the skin, and licked the skin up to the side of his neck, stopping at the indent between shoulder and neck. He kissed the skin, before baring his teeth and biting down.

"K-Kura...!" Marik breathed raggedly, raking his nails into Bakura's back. At the sound of his name, Bakura sank his teeth into the skin deeper. Hot liquid seeped into his mouth as the skin broke under his teeth, and Marik's breathing became uneven as Bakura licked it up. The wound wasn't as deep as other times, Bakura could see some scars from when he had been a bit too aggressive, but this one would heal in a few days. He lapped up the last of the blood and, not swallowing to get rid of it, licked Marik's cheek.

Marik felt his own blood on his face, and got an idea as Bakura kissed him again. The idea sent shivers down his spine, but he'd do it, to bind them. For the moment, he enjoyed the kiss; tangling his fingers into Bakura's hair, dragging him down deeper into his clutches, never wanting to let him go. Bakura's arm found its way down around Marik's waist, latching on as the other snaked around his back. Marik bit Bakura's lip, tugging at it. He growled, but not in an angry way.

As Bakura's grip on him slightly loosened, Marik took the opportunity to break free of him, rolling over and flipping them over. Bakura blinked rapidly, looking confused, but intrigued. Marik grinned and licked Bakura's cheek, and he grinned back, allowing Marik to do whatever it was he was going to do. Marik sat on Bakura's hips, straddling him.

Marik leaned down to the floor of his room and grabbed the object he had hidden there. He held it up and let it shine momentarily, turning it over. Bakura's eyes glinted at the sight of the knife in Marik's hand, but said nothing to stop him. Marik's eyes darkened as he prepared himself to quench the bloodlust both felt. He gripped the handle tightly and sliced the knife slowly into Bakura's stomach, making a shallow, yet bleeding wound. Bakura inhaled sharply and growled, twisting underneath Marik. The blood poured out of the wound, seeping over his body onto the sheets.

He then took the still bloody knife to his own hand and sliced it open as well. He watched as the blood oozed from his cut. Marik lowered his slashed and bleeding hand down to Bakura's wound, mixing the blood together. He licked his palm and met Bakura's eyes, which were burning, bright red. He slid his bloodied hand over Bakura's chest making him twitch, and leaving a distinct handprint of blood.

Marik's eyes clouded over and he brought his hand to Bakura's face, leaving blood trails on his cheek. Bakura turned his face and licked Marik's hand. Marik leaned down and licked up some of Bakura's and His blood, keeping it in his mouth. He stretched back up, kissing him hard, letting the blood pour, mixing in their mouths.

Marik tilted his head, resting his forehead against Bakura's, both breathing heavily. "Bound in Blood." He whispered, grinning slightly.

Bakura grinned and snarled, flipping them back over so he was towering over Marik, choosing now to straddle him. He took the knife from his hand and licked it, then discarding it, dropping it over the side of the bed. Bakura kissed Marik again, and as their tongues wrestled for dominance, his fingers found their way to the knot keeping the towel on Marik. He easily undid the knots and wrenched the towel off, leaving Marik completely naked below him.

Marik, not wishing to be left out of all the fun, reached for Bakura's jeans, undoing the button and slowly unzipping them. He shimmied them off of his hips, Bakura assisting in kicking them off. Now down to merely boxers, Marik slid his hands gingerly across the waistband, slipping his fingers below the elastic. Without warning, he yanked the boxers down to his knees, both erections now completely exposed to the cold air.

Bakura, eyes clouded, sat up, grinning and baring his teeth. He reached around on the bed, feeling around for the bottle of lotion he had hidden there, just in case. Marik laughed a ragged laugh as he saw Bakura find it. He covered his fingers in the stuff, and Marik spread his legs apart for him. Bakura looked at Marik, meeting his eyes as he slid a finger into the beautiful bronzed body below him. His breath hitched up and Bakura kissed him again as he slid in another finger. Marik moaned quietly into him, and once Bakura thought he was ready, he slid his fingers out.

He took the bottle again and poured some of the fluid substance out into his palm, then coating his length with it. Marik arched his back and wrapped his legs around Bakura's waist. He held his hips and asked, "Ready?"

Marik nodded, his movements twitchy and tight. Smirking slightly, he forced his way into the tight opening, Marik's fingers leaving red trails along his back. He pushed all the way in, and then quickly withdrew, making Marik gasp. Bakura, loving the sound, thrust into him again, this time hitting the spot, making Marik moan loudly.

Bakura's eyes were on fire as he pumped back and forth. His fingers were beginning to leave bruises on Marik's hips. Marik's head snapped backwards, and Bakura licked Marik's lips, kissing him before slamming into him again. Marik screamed and Bakura swallowed the sound.

A few more thrusts and Marik yanked on Bakura's hair, signaling to him. Bakura only went faster, nearing breaking point. Bakura grabbed Marik's bleeding hand and held it to his face, blood seeping onto him. Marik spasmed and came, crying Bakura's name as he did so. He followed soon after, growling Marik's name in the back of his throat.

He pulled out and rolled over onto his back, breathing unevenly. Marik rolled on top of him, sighing.

The blood was everywhere. The ends of Bakura's hair were tinged with it, as was his, [and Marik expected his as well] face. _"So much for the shower..." _Marik thought, smirking to himself. They both lie coated in each others blood, but neither seemed to care. Bakura wrapped his arms around Marik, and fell asleep quickly after that.

Marik nestled himself against Bakura's chest, breathing deeply. He nuzzled his face against his chest, and Bakura's arms tightened around him protectively, unconsciously. The voices in Marik's head had quieted; images and memories no longer assaulted his mind. He felt the blood around him and smiled softly to himself. He realized then why it was that he kept himself alive. Even though it was unspoken by both of them, they both realized there was love there. After all, they were bound in blood now.

Marik coated his first and middle fingers with Bakura's blood, and dragged them across his lips. He licked it, smirking, and fell asleep.


End file.
